Mabel's Magic

  

Mabel’s Magic.

 

“Mother! Concentrate! You look gormless staring at the light fitting.” Henry thrust the document forward, the paper hissing as he almost split it. “Sign here!”

Above his head, the Fairy blew a raspberry and stuck up two delicate fingers.

“Bully!” she yelled, executing a perfect somersault from her perch next to the light bulb. “No Mabel! Don’t sign!” she screeched kicking the fountain pen from Henry’s outstretched fingers.

Ink sprayed, dancing a jig through the air before tattooing the bed sheets with a black web. Mabel laughed. She didn’t mean to, the giggle simply sneaked out between ill-fitting dentures.

“Look what you’ve done, you stupid old biddy!” bellowed Henry with the face of a red eyed bulldog.

Mabel eyed his previously white shirt, now re-decorated with a spreading stain. “Oh, dear,” she trilled, “t’wasn’t me.”

“Really?” sneered Henry, “so who was it? The fairies?”

“Well, yes dear…” began Mabel, gasping relief as he finally believed her. “I told you all about her before, she’s so funny…”

“Oh no! Not this nonsense again Mother!” Henry grasped Mabel’s wrist, his biting fingers sending a snow storm of dry skin to tremble from her arm. “How many times do I have to tell you? There are; No ghosts; No goblins; No demons and definitely No fairies! It’s just you, hallucinating. You’ve lost the plot, remember?”

Mabel was amused by his unintentional irony. “Remember? How can I if I’ve lost the plot. I don’t know much anymore, but I know this; the Fairy is here every minute of every day.”

Henry looked as though he would surely spontaneously combust. Snatching up the pen he jabbed it at Mabel, somehow turning it into a weapon.

Fairy watched through a furious haze as Mabel cowered amongst the bedclothes. “I’m sorry Mabel. Tis not as I should wish, but desperate measures are needed….”

Running from her resting place at the bedstead, she began to use Mabel’s quilt covered abdomen as a trampoline.

“Oh dear, too much tea,” quaked Mabel biting her lip. “I think I need to go, can you help me Henry? My frame is somewhere around….”

“Your bladder is as weak as your head,” stormed Henry stalking from the room. “I’ll be back tomorrow, and you better have more sense in your head and less tea in your bladder or there will be trouble.”

As the door settled behind him, Fairy stopped bouncing.

“Sorry,” she said, “T’was all I could think of to get rid of him.”

“I understand,” whispered Mabel, “I’m grateful he’s gone. I can’t imagine what he was here for.” She looked hopefully around the bed. “He’s not bought me any fruit or flowers. I’m sure I asked him to when he came yesterday.”

“Oh Mabel, he didn’t come yesterday,” sighed Fairy hovering close so Mabel could see her clearly. “Tis over six months since last he visited. And then t’was only to pinch some money from your cash caddy. Today his grand plan was to get you to sign everything over to him.”

“I don’t understand,” mused Mabel. “What have I got that he could possibly want?”

“You’ve got a whole house outside this bedroom Mabel. You just don’t remember.” Fairy flew to Mabel’s walking frame. “Here, take a hold of this and I’ll lead you on a tour.”

“A tour,” gasped Mabel, “how exciting.”

“Exciting?” giggled Fairy, “I wish t’was, but truth be told, we do the same route every afternoon. Slide into your slippers, the floors are cold. Follow me.”

Fairy hovered, wings glowing to light the way along the landing.  “This way Mabel, follow my sparkle, don’t get lost now. I’ve lots to show you.”

“Oh my, what a lovely room,” gasped Mabel as Fairy opened every creaky door. “Someone has very good taste in décor.”

“Tis you, Mabel,” laughed Fairy, “you picked every cushion, every colour, every perfect picture. You don’t remember, but I do. I’ve watched you every day of your life, since the day you were born in the back bedroom overlooking the orchard. Now, tis my job to help you visit your rooms each day, keep them alive in your head.”

They sat a while in the lounge, all dusky pink and lavender scent. Mabel poured tea instructed by Fairy sitting on her shoulder. “Tis the purple cup with the green saucer that you favour,” pointed Fairy, “and I take my tea in the toy china cup from your childhood.”

“Isn’t this wonderful?” Mabel sighed. “You are such a dear friend. What would I do without you? You are my ears, my eyes and my memory holder.  Remind me, how long have we known each other?”

“Eighty nine years, three hundred and sixty four days,” said Fairy, “T’was my solemn duty to watch over you in your crib, deliver money for the teeth under your pillow, help you sleep when you were scared. Then as you grew up, I grew blurry until you could not see me at all.”

“That was bad of me, I’m sorry,” said Mabel.

“Tis normal,” sighed Fairy, “but no matter, over the past few years as life has become blurry to you, I have grown clear again. Tis my honour to serve you.”

“I wish I’d aged as well as you,” said Mabel peering into the crackled mirror above the fireplace. “I look like an old prune. And who drained the colour from my hair?”

“You’re the same as you ever were on the inside,” said the Fairy, “see…”

She brushed the mirror with her wings and reflected back was a Mabel with soft unlined skin and a promise in the blush of her cheeks.

“That’s the ‘before’ me,” said Mabel. “Before life; before marriage; before Henry.”

“That Mabel is still here too,” said Fairy, “you’ll see. You need to re-discover her; she lives on in your heart. Talking of Henry, we need to develop a plan. I’ve been watching him, valuing all your bits and pieces. He’ll take the house as soon as you sign his papers.”

“Oh dear,” said Mabel sadly, “we shall be homeless.”

“Tis true,” spat the Fairy, kicking a cushion to release a grey cloud. “Ugh, this dust will be the finish of me,” she spluttered falling backwards, landing on the rug.

Mabel scooped her up gently, setting her down next to a grimy silver framed photograph. Fairy shook her wings to clear the debris managing to polish the picture glass at the same time.

“Who’s she?” asked Mabel studying the photo of a young woman.

 “Your God-daughter. Henry banned her from visiting you a few years back, threatened her with all sorts he did. Before then she visited every day, did bits of washing, cooked you nice dinners. But he scared her off good and proper.”

“That’s horrible, can’t we get her back? Where is she now?”

“I fear she is lost,” said Fairy. “Life has not treated her kindly.”

“Poor girl, she needs a fairy like you at her shoulder,” sighed Mabel stroking Fairy’s glittering hair with a papery hand. “Can’t you do a spell to help her? And a bit of magic to stop Henry too?”

“Alas, tis not so easy, I am not permitted to muddle in human fate. The magic must come from you not me or t’will fail. But I shall think on it.”

“You do that,” said Mabel, “since I cannot. I have trouble in the thinking department. And magic? I can’t do that! I can barely make a cup of tea!”

Mabel felt her lucid thoughts melting, “I’m tiring Fairy. Cheer us both with one of your rude little Fairy songs.”

“Very well,” giggled Fairy launching into her most raucous repertoire. At the end of her Can-Can routine she kicked so high the table tipped spilling its contents to the floor. The photo of the girl crashed, spitting glass fragments all around.

“Oh dear, I’m sorry,” said Fairy, “seems I forgot the power of my feet.”

“No matter Fairy, you’ve done us a favour. Look! A paper spilt from the frame,” gasped Mabel with excited fingers. “It has her name and number on it. I know what to do! Quick, get my coat and hat, and dial me a taxi number before I forget my own plan.”

“Perfect,” said Fairy with an all knowing look. “T’will be just enough time before dark for us to manage one last adventure. Don’t worry, I shall hide in your hat feathers whispering instructions all the way.”

Exhausting hours later, the pair returned home.

“T’was a job well done Mabel, I’m so proud of you. Now into bed,” instructed Fairy. “The November chill has slid into your bones, your lips are blue as cornflowers. We must warm you or the pneumonia demon will surely sneak in on you. I felt his breath on our backs all the way home.”

“The solicitor was very helpful wasn’t she?” murmured Mabel, “everything in place for that poor girl in the photo. Wasn’t it lucky that we managed all the paperwork in one afternoon? I’m not sure I could manage another outing. I am drained to my bones.”

“T’was very lucky,” agreed Fairy, “and you worked it all out. You made your own magic as I said you should.”

“I can barely keep my eyes open, I feel so drifty,” wheezed Mabel through juicy lungs. “But I have a last request of you Fairy…”

“Anything dear Friend,” said Fairy wiping away a tear.

“Please help the photo girl.” Mabel fixed Fairy with a serious look, “Be her Fairy.”

“T’will be an honour,” said Fairy with a regal bow. “Besides, you have fixed it so she inherits the house. T’will be fun for me to show her all our treasures. I shall serve her faithfully. You see Mabel, tis not just you I serve. I am joined to this very house. I serve it and whoever dwells here.”

“Perfect,” sighed Mabel.

“T’was double important to me not to have Henry moved in. T’would have killed me to serve such as him.”

“I guessed as much, that’s why I used my last drop of Mabel magic just for you,” whispered Mabel on her final breath.